


"These Arms Are Made for Holding You"

by jadziadrgnrdr



Series: In the Details [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Barebacking, Canon Compliant, Coming Out, Established Relationship, Face-Fucking, M/M, Rimming, Sequel, itdwtd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-22
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-03-02 18:23:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2821814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadziadrgnrdr/pseuds/jadziadrgnrdr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s a slice of life  fic set right now.  </p><p>You can read this as a standalone but it is part of the “In the Details with the Devil" timeline between Chapter 6 and the Epilogue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"These Arms Are Made for Holding You"

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thisonegoes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisonegoes/gifts).



> To my most beloved Grace. All you said is “make it nasty” so I made sure that was there but then I also added some feelings like I tend to do. I hope this cheers you up some, turtledove. ILU.
> 
> This is unbetaed because technology thwarted me. Hope it's not fucked up in some profound way. What's that they say about presents? It's the thought that counts????
> 
> Title from "18" of course.

“Ugh gross, I honestly don’t know what’s worse; the amount of times I’ve walked in on you gobbing each other off or the matchy-matchy couple look you’re going for lately.” Louis states. Zayn’s face twitches minutely in amusement where he sits unperturbed on the green room couch. He and Harry had shown up in chunky beanies, their hair washed but unstyled sticking out at the bottom almost the same length. Niall is getting styled now so they’re waiting. 

Harry of course gets a big grin on his face and climbs down onto his knees.

“Well let’s test it then,” He says with a lascivious wink to Zayn as he goes to undo the buttons on his jeans. Zayn laughs and starts to help him.

“Yes, maybe if we’re matching _and_ sucking cock at the same time you can better assess?” He says over his shoulder at Louis. Louis is already out the door loudly declaring he’s on the hunt for more respectable company.

“Oh darling, get off the floor in your show pants.” Caroline comes over and fusses, already armed with her trusty lint roller. Harry stands and apologizes to her while she does a few cursory swipes of Harrys’ knees and shins then pats the side of his face when he smiles down at her. “And you are the worst, Zaynie! Encouraging him like that,” she tuts as she bustles back over to where she and Liam are trying to decide on a tie for the night. 

“Sorry, Car,” Zayn intones contritely, grabbing Harry’s hand and yanking him back down beside him with a squinty smile, kissing the top of his head when it settles into the crook of his arm. Usually there is a small army of people in their dressing room but now there is just the core unit so Harry and Zayn can be as coupley as they want to be. Harry watches Niall eat, get his hair done, and occasionally shout things at the Darby County game he’s watching on his Mac Air while Zayn lazily scrolls through his phone. He tilts the screen over so he can share a pic of him and Harry on a recent red carpet standing beside each other with Zayn’s hand lightly touching the middle of Harry’s back. Someone had scrawled  
 _Z A R R Y D I C K S Q U A D_ across the bottom and festooned it with heart eye emojis and sparkling penises. They snicker at it and Zayn saves it to his ever-growing folder of such graphics. 

“I love the romance of this one.” He says.

“Yeah it’s very Jane Austin,” Harry agrees then settles in for a little catnap on Zayn’s chest. 

The night goes well. They’re in Belgium on a chat show, and like always when they do non-English speaking shows, there is the general sense of confusion and awkwardness they all carry. They get to sing on this one though, and the sound system is really good so they all feel confident about that part at least. They have a few more European promo obligations then it’s off to New York to tape Fallon and do Saturday Night Live. Harry makes an appearance at the after party for the latter with Niall who is his ever up-for-it party partner but leaves early to order room service with Zayn in their suite and chill out. 

The next day they go out to dinner and to The Box, one of Harry’s favorite NYC clubs. He tells Zayn that he likes the London one better but either one is always a treat. Zayn can tell by how Harry’s eyes are sparkling he’s in for some shit. 

The music is actually pretty good, certainly better than he’d expected. They dance to deep house and ambient music doing shots and loving life. They get bottle service for the main show, a troupe of naked contortionists with an array of body types, ages, and genital combinations doing a series of bends and flips and tricks. Harry tells him that the show was tamer than normal when they make it safely into their waiting SUV and away from the paparazzi’s flashbulbs. 

“That was tame for you, Styles? How am I ever going to keep up!?” Zayn crows and laughs until he falls over onto the seat. Harry follows and their laughing turns into a pretty involved make-out session until they get back to their hotel.

The articles that spring up over night construct a narrative wherein Harry is helping Zayn get over the dissolution of his engagement with a wild night on the town. Only Perez Hilton goes the route of calling them a couple. He also insinuates they were high on coke, but that’s the patented obnoxiousness one expects from Perez. When it’s time to fly out of New York, Harry and Zayn head to Harry’s LA house after much advocating (read: wheedling) on Harry’s part.

*************

The last few months have been hard fought but worth it. On the day after Zayn and Harry had decided that they were going to be together exclusively and completely, Zayn woke up next to Harry with love in his heart and stress on his mind. He sat on the side of his bed with a weight pushing down on his shoulders and a nest of vipers tangled in his belly.

He needed to see his parents. He needed to see them before _The Mirror_ or _The Sun_ plastered a salacious story about him pushing Perrie away with constant gay orgies because he knew that whenever someone wanted to report something bad about him, they always went above and beyond the call of duty. 

Harry woke up and smiled at him. When he saw Zayn’s face, his shifted into one of understanding. 

“Do you want me to go with you to Bradford?” He’d asked. They hadn’t discussed this part the night before, but Zayn wasn’t surprised that Harry instinctually knew he needed to go see his parents before he did anything else.

“No, babe. I don’t wanna drag you into it especially if it gets bad.” He replied.

“That’s probably why I should be there, Zayn.” Harry said reasonably, speaking words of good sense and support while his face was still puffy from sleep and his voice cellar deep. 

“No, I … Thank you but no, H. I’m going. You can stay here if you like. I’ll probably need you when I get back?” Zayn concedes.

“Of course,” Harry said, pulling Zayn into a sideways hug. “I love you.” He said quietly.

“Yeah, I love you too.” Zayn responded. They’d said that to each other many times before, but the words had taken on a new weight and shape.

Zayn checked his texts, emails, and social media feeds. Everything was as calm as it ever got with him so he knew that Perrie hadn’t even told their management. Good. His parents did not deserve to hear this from anyone but him.

“You know, while you do that I can talk to Mandy and everyone at the label.” 

“Is it fair for me to leave you to do all of that alone?” 

“Yeah, I mean we already decided all that last night… what we want to say and what our plans are. … And it’s not like we’re asking permission. We’re just telling them.” Harry says. 

After what was sure to be a draining conversation with his parents Zayn welcomed the idea of having the business bit taken care of by the time he was finished. Besides he knew that Harry really wanted to do this for him, for them. 

“Yeah that would be good. You sure you don’t’ wanna see your own family though?” Zayn asks. 

“Nah, I’ll Skype with Gem and mum a bit later. I know you’re a bit more time sensitive than me. Um Robin might raise an eyebrow but I don’t think he’ll be _mad_ … My dad will probably be a little weird but it’ll clear up.” Harry shrugged. Zayn envied his optimism.

Zayn called his parents to make sure they would both be available and told them he was coming to speak to them. When he got there it was clear that they thought they were about to become grandparents and his mom was fit to burst at the prospect. 

Zayn had to carefully explain that not only was Perrie not pregnant but that they had called off their engagement. His mother looked gut-punched. His father was unreadable. When his mum asked him why, he looked her in the eye and told her he was unfaithful.

“Oh son,” his father finally said shaking his head and looking down. 

“I … it was bad and wrong to do that but it was because … for a long time I’ve been hiding something from everyone…. ….. even me.” He hated how weak his voice sounded as he stared down at his hands in front of him.

“Son?” his father asked. He’d placed his hand on Zayn’s shoulder and Zayn looked up not crying but with pleading eyes. 

“I’m so sorry, I really tried not to be this way. Like I fought it my whole life, I really did but I don’t think it’s something you can fight. Please…” 

“Oh sweetheart,” his mother said sorrowfully and placed her hand on his. “It’s ok. It’s ok. We love you.” She meant it, Zayn knew but she was crying, and Zayn hates that he made her cry. “Yaser?” she says. Zayn realizes that his father’s large hand is no longer on his shoulder. He didn’t realize when he took it away and his stomach was flipping. 

“I don’t understand.” His father stated simply. Zayn sits up straight, clears his throat and with great effort looks his father in the eye as a grown man and speaks.

“I’m - - I like men … I have always felt this way but I’m still me. I’m still the son you raised, pop. I promise.”

Yaser stood then, using the table for leverage. Zayn absently made a note that his leg must’ve been bothering him because of the rain. He looked down at Zayn with what appeared to be distracted confusion and gently knuckled his jaw. The connection made something sing in Zayn’s heart but then Yaser shook his head, dropped his hand away from Zayn’s face and turned to walk out of the room. It was like the bottom fell out of the world. 

“Dad, dad, please…” he stood, calling after him. Yaser turned and looked at him then shook his head and continued out of the door. His mum took his hand.

“Mum,” Zayn wheezed, eyes large and wet.

“He needs a moment is all. He’s not mad at you and he loves you just as much as I do. Just give him a moment, sweetheart.” She’d said. 

“Mum, he can’t look at me…” Zayn continued. Trisha shushed him and stood up to hug him. He’d buried his face in her neck and shut his eyes tight like a frightened child.

“You’re always going to be my sunshine. You’re always going to be your father’s son. Never fear losing that.” Trisha said with resolve.

Later, after both of them composed themselves and Trisha reassured him several more times about his father’s unconditional love, he helped her get dinner together and they talked. 

He told her that he was with Harry and about how things ended with Perrie. She said that he and Harry fit and it made sense to her. "You're both thinkers." She'd said. That had startled a laugh out of him on a day when laughter seemed in short supply, but she also insisted he do everything in his power to make it right with Perrie because she didn’t deserve what he had done to her no matter the reason. 

By the time his father came back into the house and Doniyah returned with the younger ones in tow, Zayn felt normal enough to have a relatively pleasant – if vaguely tense meal with his family. Safaa didn’t’ pick up on anything being out of the ordinary, she’d just been happy to have Zayn home on a day she wasn’t expecting him. Waaliyah was too busy to notice anything amiss as she was sneaking texts under the table, presumably to Rameez. Doniyah knew something was up almost immediately. Zayn could tell by the way her razor sharp gaze settled on him and his parents in turn. 

His father blamed the excess of celebrity even though Zayn insisted tha, that wasn’t the case. He’d made a remark that Zayn hadn’t been to mosque with the family nor had he seemed to find a new one to join in London. 

Zayn assured his father that he still adheres to his faith and insisted that if he's wrong and is to be judged he trusts _Allah_ and no earthly being to mete out that justice. He went on to say that God had made him and he refused to believe he was somehow a mistake. His father seemed to chew on that for a bit but didn't seem completely convinced just then. 

In the end, Yaser affirmed that he loved Zayn and was worried that everyone would know and treat him poorly. He’d never gotten over how horrid people had been to Zayn about being Muslim in the beginning and still regards the internet with a sneering distrust. Zayn informed him that he was not going to come out publically. His father seemed to relax some at that news. 

When he told him that he’s in a relationship with Harry, Yaser pursed his lips a bit and remarked that although he adores Harry, (“He’s very polite, Zayn.”) he fears that Harry may be a bit too fast for Zayn. Zayn managed not to burst out laughing in his father’s face and assured him that they will be ok as a couple. 

In the end, Zayn’s father insisted that he not tell his little sisters. Zayn agreed knowing that Harry would likely bristle a bit at that directive since he sees it as his duty to convince Zayn that there is nothing wrong or shameful about loving each other (Parts of Zayn know this but parts still struggle despite his strong sure words to his father). However, considering Zayn was mentally preparing himself for full rejection from his family that small, concession seemed like nothing at all.

************

The best part about fucking in a house is that, unlike a hotel suite, you’re never worried about who might hear you or if there are hidden cameras in the light fixtures. Moaning isn’t the word for what Harry is doing while Zayn lays between his legs fingering and licking him out. There may not be any human word for the noises he’s making.

“You ready for me, babe?” Zayn purrs.

“Y-Yeah… I’m ready.” Harry says playing with his nipples and looking at Zayn through slitted eyes.

Harry had confessed he was a bit fixated on the time in Canada when Zayn came without his cock being touched.

“Well that’s not actually what happened love, I touched it quite a bit for a good long while and then I stopped.” Zayn had corrected. Either way the idea of being fucked to orgasm had taken hold of Harry and he was determined to make it happen for himself. Zayn is more than happy to oblige. 

Harry nearly folds himself in half trying to get the right angle. Zayn places his hands in the crook of Harry’s knees and presses them into his shoulders. Zayn admires the definition in Harry’s abs as he fucks up into Zayn’s downward thrusts. His hips stay off the bed. He growls for Zayn to fuck him harder repeatedly until he’s stuck at the precipice of too much but still wanting more. He loses coherent speech and his eyes flash while Zayn is pounding into him with such force the lamp on the bedside table falls to the floor with a crash. 

“Oh fuuuuuck…” Zayn wants to hold out and give Harry what he wants but it just feels. So. fucking. _Good_. He snaps his hips one final time and comes deep inside Harry his whole body quivering. He doesn’t take time to catch his breath just gets back to work between Harry’s legs licking him from his hole to the tip of his cock and then sucking him down. Zayn bobs his head three times before Harry is exploding in his mouth yelling up at the ceiling.

 

A little later, they lethargically clean up the lamp bits, energy totems, and phone chargers that had tumbled from their perch due to the bed and table’s proximity to the wall. Zayn promised that after a nap, he’ll even out the little scuffs and cracks in the wall that the headboard had made but for now, he spoons up behind Harry.

“It’s going to happen. I was almost there like not even a minute and I would have,” he makes an explosion sound with his mouth . Then he yawns, his eyes fluttering shut.

“Yeah no doubt. I believe in us.” Zayn responds, his eyes closed as well placing a kiss on Harry’s shoulder.

**************

When Zayn wakes up he can smell cookies. He wastes no time putting on his slippers and going down to the kitchen to investigate.

When he enters Harry’s kitchen he already has a smile on his face that only grows wider when he catches sight of Harry. The place is a mess, flour and cookie gunk seems to be everywhere including dusted in Harry’s hair. He’s wearing small gray pants with an apron, shaking his ass singing to Mariah Carey’s Christmas album. 

Harry spins around w a spatula in hand for his big finish noticing Zayn as he does. Zayn can see that his apron reads _Queen of the Kitchen_ and that makes him giggle a bit.

“Babe!” Harry shouts picking up a cookie from a plate on the counter and aiming it at Zayn’s mouth. All Zayn can do is open his mouth and his arms as Harry crowds up against him and places the cookie on his tongue. Zayn’s eyes go wide.

“This is amazing, Harry.” Harry glows at the compliment, popping a cookie of his own into his mouth and smiling smugly.

“Thanks!” I didn’t even mess any up. It’s a Christmas miracle!” He says with mock wonder in his voice. Zayn keeps his arm loosely around Harry’s middle placing his palm on his ass as he moves them closer to the cookie plate and eats a few more. Harry allows it but as soon as his oven timer goes off, he shoos Zayn away from the counter so he can finish his huge cookie making enterprise. 

“What’s all this then?” Zayn asks as he approaches the kitchen table, which has little square swatches of burgundy tulle and spools of metallic ribbon.

“Oh… the cookies are gonna be gifts for people. I wanna give them out when I head home on Tuesday. Figured I’d package them up, make them pretty.”

“Awww, you’re so sweet.” Zayn says batting his eyes exaggeratedly. Harry just flips him the bird quickly before stooping down to put his next batch of cookies in the oven.

Zayn notices there are several batches of cookies that are finished so he washes his hands then brings a plate over to the table. He starts making the little cookie care packages periodically claiming one of the buttery chocolate chip cookies for himself. He and Harry sing along to Mariah and when Harry is done baking he comes over to admire the neat piles of cookie packs Zayn has made. 

“Thank you so much. You’re the best.” He bends down and Zayn cranes his neck up for a chaste peck on the mouth. Harry settles into the chair beside him, slipping his long legs over Zayn’s lap and fills out all the little notecards for his family. Zayn finishes each off with a little snowman or reindeer then they carefully pack them up in a large candy tin.

They put off cleaning the kitchen to burn off the sugar rush from their all day cookie diet by using olive oil as lube so that Harry can put Zayn against the wall and fuck him senseless and loose limbed.

*************

They opt for a private jet back to London.

This is convenient because the little butterflies that flutter about Zayn’s stomach during take-off actually heighten the pleasure of Harry deep throating him while he thrusts up as much as his seat belt will allow. When they reach cruising altitude Zayn realizes how tightly he’s gripping Harry’s hair and how strongly he’s holding him down. He relents. Harry sits up and his mouth and chin are dripping, his eyes watering but he’s grinning. His dimples deepen when the seatbelt sign dings and the light goes off. He unhooks himself and then gets down between Zayn’s legs so he can get back to work. Zayn lets him control it now, looking down and sweeping Harry’s hair back so he can watch his obscenely full lips hug his shaft. Harry is taking his time and using his tongue on the underside of his cock. Zayn starts to thrust again but he moves his hands to the armrests so as not to get too forceful. Harry eases off and jerks Zayn off for a while.

“I love sucking your cock.” He says looking up at him.

“I had noticed that.” Harry kisses Zayn’s tip open mouthed then backs off. He grins then folds himself liquidly to the floor and opens his mouth wide.

“H?” Zayn says taking hold of himself confused.

“Harry lifts his head and simply says, ‘fuck me’ before lowering it to the cabin floor and opening his mouth again.” 

“Fuck,” Zayn whispers. He shucks his sweats and tee-shirt then climbs on top of him, lean thighs on either side of his head. Harry’s hair fans out like a flower all around him. He looks gorgeous. Zayn traces the line of of his cheekbone and his jaw then he lightly brushes the pad of his fingers over Harry’s lips. “You want me to fuck you, Haz? Want me to use your mouth like a cunt?” 

Harry doesn’t answer just envelopes Zayn’s two middle fingers with his mouth, sucks hard then pulls back leaving his mouth soft and open and waiting. Zayn knee-walks forward a bit more until he can run the head of his cock over Harry’s bottom lip. Harry keeps his mouth slack and laps at Zayn with his tongue. Zayn gets tired of holding back so he leans forward, putting weight on his right hand while his left hand guides his dick into Harry’s mouth. He starts thrusting immediately, on all fours, quick shallow pumps of his hips into Harry’s mouth as he moans and curses and demands for Harry to take it, which Harry does with alacrity. Harry’s hands come up to hold Zayn’s bum, resting his thumbs in the dents made on either side when it flexes.

The feeling of his cock moving inside the wet heat of Harry’s mouth is euphoric and Harry’s gurgling moans are like music, but Zayn is a visual sort so he gets up off his knees so he can plank over Harry and watch his cock disappear down his throat then slide back into view. Beyond that he can look down Harry’s body as he wrestles with the confines of his tight jeans and his boxer briefs to jerk off. 

“Take your cock out, Haz I wanna see.” Zayn stills himself so Harry can concentrate on getting his pants and jeans down around his ankles, rap his right hand around his cock, spreads his knees wide, and sink his other hand down between them. Seeing this, Zayn says, “Wait Haz,” and carefully dismounts. He reaches over to where his jeans lie in a heap and drags out a small bottle of lube. “Here babe,” he says as he squeezes the liquid generously onto Harry’s fingers than sets the bottle on the side of Harry’s hip so he can reach it if he needs more. 

Harry wastes not one moment and goes right back to jerking off and fingering himself. He’s moaning like a porn star. Zayn knows in his mind the pilots can’t hear them through the thick door separating the cabin from the cockpit, but there’s a part of him that’s turned on by the prospect that they _might_ , and he knows those kinds of thoughts do it for Harry too.

“That’s right sing for Rick and Joe up there in the cockpit. I bet they’re cocks are rock hard listening to you right now.” Harry gasps and both his hands speed up. Zayn smiles smugly and takes his position above Harry again.

 _YES_. 

Perfect view. Perfect sounds. Perfect feeling. This is certainly not going to take long especially since Zayn is not done talking, which heightens the experience for both of them. 

“Gonna come right down your throat, yeah. Make you swallow every drop. You’re fucking mouth… god your mouth was made to be fucked, H. Did you know that? Shit oh god, I’m almost …. You ready for me, babe?” Then his oratory devolves into throaty moans interspersed with hissing. When his climax finally hits, his legs give out a little so his knees crash down on either side of Harry’s head again. He stays there on all fours, framing Harry’s head with shaking thighs, moaning up to the ceiling while Harry vacuums his release from him.

*************

“Oh no! She has a boyfriend?!”

“Yeah but it’s ok.”

“Barry really seems to love her… even though they grew up kinda like sister and brother so it’s sorta weird but still…”

“Yeah, no I get it but like, Iris in the comics is The Flash’s Lois Lane. Even if she’s got another boyfriend, it’ll all sort itself.” Zayn assures Harry as he pops in another piece of Nicorette, looking down and frowning at the last few pieces rattling around in the pack and calculating how many more hours they have in the flight.

“Oh good,” Harry says and smiles quickly over at Zayn. After a few minutes Harry asks Zayn if he’ll be his Iris.

“I rather thought I’d be The Flash and you’d be _my_ Iris if I’m honest.” Zayn says with a little laugh.

“Don’t be silly, our names even rhyme. Nope, I ‘m definitely Barry.” Harry says with finality and when Zayn attempts to come back Harry shushes him with a cheeky grin saying that he needs to pay attention to what is going on in the show. Zayn chuckles and squeezes Harry’s thigh under the blanket they’re sharing.

Zayn had tried to explain different comic book stories to Harry at Harrys’ request but stopped when he noticed how Harry’s eyes would glaze over. Harry, however, was determined to find more interests in common. Zayn decided that starting him off with the television and movie versions of his beloved comic book heroes was way more Harry’s speed. He couldn’t get into Gotham, but The Flash seems to be agreeing with him.

For his part, Zayn had finally started reading Harry’s copy of “Women” by Charles Bukowski. He’s enjoying it so far, and sees exactly why Harry likes it so much, the dirty bugger.

Zayn gets sleepy so he curls down a bit to pillow his head more on Harry’s chest. Harry automatically readjusts himself to best suit Zayn while not looking away from the screen. Zayn yawns hugely and let’s his eyes fall shut.

 

Harry’s alarm goes off, and as usual, Zayn can’t readily identify where he is in the world or what’s going on for several moments. All he’s sure about is Harry’s warm sleepy frame stirring beside him. They hold on to each other blinking groggily for a while. The plane is on its final approach to Heathrow. 

Neither of them particularly want to get dressed and slip back into their public faces so it takes them longer than it should to sort through their clothes strewn all over everything and put them back on. Just as they’re finishing up, the pilot comes in over the PA and announces their descent. A moment after that the seat belt sign is back. They shuffle over to their seats and strap themselves in as instructed. Zayn doesn’t’ always like landings either so Harry grabs his hand and drags it over into his lap, rubbing his thumb back and forth over the knuckles. They keep their hands clasped together as long as they can until it’s time to disembark.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading/kudos/commenting. I hope you enjoyed it. :)


End file.
